


guardian

by starkhowlett



Category: John Wick (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Bodyguard AU, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fluff, Not Canon Compliant, doesnt quite follow the movies, smut MAYBE, ur dad is a mob boss, ur normal pew pew business in the john wick cinematic universe god bless
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-05-31 15:41:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19429021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkhowlett/pseuds/starkhowlett
Summary: you'd never needed a bodyguard. your family name was well known in the city, famous enough that no one ever messed with you or bothered you. you used to think you were safe, untouchable, even with your father's numerous enemies.how fucking naive of you. your luck had to run out sooner or later.





	1. one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!! i know theres a few bodyguard aus out there, but i got inspired by one of them and decided to write my own take on it!! hope u all enjoy <3

You’d never had the need for a bodyguard. You were the only daughter of Francisco Rivas, a powerful mob boss operating in the Bronx and other parts of the city, and had three older brothers who were deep in the family business as well. Frankie, Tito and Manny were as annoying as they were overprotective, but you loved them anyway.

You weren’t stupid, you knew what exactly their “business” entailed, even though you had never gotten involved. Not for lack of wanting, you just weren’t allowed. But you weren’t one to complain either, because _nobody_ ever messed with you. The Rivas name would usually instill either fear or respect on those who heard it, particularly those from the Bronx or those who were in the business as well. You used to think you were safe, untouchable, despite your father's many enemies. 

How fucking naive of you. Your luck had to run out sooner or later.

One evening you decided to go out clubbing with a friend. Nightclubs weren’t usually your scene, but your friend had just come back from an internship abroad, you hadn’t seen her in a while and she desperately wanted to go out with you. And she wanted to go clubbing. She texted you which club she wanted to go to, and after a lot of deliberation, you agreed. You decided to meet her there, and began to get ready.

You came out of your room, tip-toeing to your father's office. It was closed, and that usually meant he was doing business. You pressed your ear to the door, hearing his voice. He was talking on the phone. You decided to knock, knowing that interrupting him to let him know you were going out was better than just leaving and risking his anger. He rarely got angry at you, but he worried like crazy whenever you went out without telling him. You suspected it was because he was scared one of his rivals would try and harm you if they saw you out in the streets of New York City. You weren't worried. Your father was powerful, and had connections _everywhere_. There was no way anyone was stupid enough to anger him by harming his only daughter, even if to gain a slight upper hand on him. 

The one time he had suggested a bodyguard for you, you laughed, saying you'd rather die than have a babysitter trailing behind you every hour of the day. Your father hadn't laughed. 

His right hand man, Antonio, opened the door. He smiled at you, opened the door a little wider, and held up a finger as he turned back to face your father, who was sitting at his desk.

"¿Quién es?" He was covering the receiver of the old fashioned phone with his hand.

"Your daughter." Antonio replied.

You saw your father nod, and Antonio stepped aside to let you in. You walked into your father's office, studying the various pictures up on his walls. Pictures of politicians, other people in the business and family members adorned the walls, as well as valuable paintings. You ended up standing in front of his desk as he hung up. 

"Leaving already?" He asked with a smile.

"Yeah. Just came by to let you know, old man, so you don't have a heart attack." You teased, making him chuckle fondly. You picked up one of the frames on his desk, turning it in your hands to reveal a picture of you and your brothers when you were all little, making you smile fondly. When your gaze flickered to him again, you noticed he was hurriedly putting away a stack of gold coins, the ones he was messing with while he was talking on the phone. "You don't need to hide those. I know what they are."

"Give my best to Rachel, alright? Tell her she has to come visit soon." He blatantly ignored you as he smiled and closed the drawer where he had put the coins. 

You gave him a tight lipped smile and put down the frame. "Yeah, I will. Bye dad." You didn't mind not being included in the family business. Hell, you were sure that you didn't have the stomach for it. But you wished they'd give you _some_ credit. 

"¡Be safe, mi niña!" He called out as you left the office. 

You walked down the stairs of the townhouse your family lived in, heels in hand. Sitting down on one of the couches in the living room, you attracted the attention of one of your brothers, Manny, who was on the other couch watching TV. He cleared his throat as you began to strap your heels on, making you look at him. He had clearly come back from “work”, as he was still in a dress shirt and pants, but no jacket, tie or shoes to be seen. His socked feet were up on the expensive coffee table.

“Where you goin’?” He asked.

 _Here we go,_ you thought with a sigh. “Out.”

“Ah.” Manny said good naturedly, with his trademark goofy smile. “Out where?”

“None of your business.” You smiled at him, standing up and smoothing down your dress.

“Goin’ clubbing?” He guessed, his eyes glued to the TV once more.

You gaped at him. “How the fuck did you know?”

He lazily turned to look at you again. “I just guessed. You never dress up. My second guess was a date, but we both know _that’s_ not happening.”

You threw a pillow at him, making him squawk. “You ass, it _could’ve_ been a date!”

“But it wasn’t!” Manny cackled.

“Whatever, I’m gonna be late.” You walked past him, knocking his feet off the coffee table as you went.

Manny scowled, watching you walk to the front door as he slowly put his feet back on the coffee table.

“If Mom sees you, she’s gonna lose it.” You said in a sing-song voice, checking your makeup in the mirror at the entrance one last time.

“Whatever.” He scoffed. “I’m a grown ass man. She can’t do nothin’ to me.”

“Okay.” You said cheerfully, stepping out the door, slamming it on your way out. 

Your mother, Carmen, stepped out of another room curiously at the sound. “Was that your sister leaving?” She asked your brother.

“Yup.” Manny said off-handedly, entranced by the TV.

Carmen noticed his feet up on the coffee table and her temper flared as she went over and knocked them down as you had done earlier. “Manuel!”

You giggled as you heard your mother’s yelling from outside the townhouse as you got into your Uber.

“Good evenin’ miss.” The driver smiled politely, and you returned the greeting. “The Red Circle, right?”

You smiled. “That’s right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please be nice... this is the first fic ive written in a long long time!! i know this is short, its kind of a little intro, but i promise john will show up soon enough!! thanks for reading :)


	2. two.

The music inside the club was so loud that it could be heard from outside. You weren’t even inside yet, and the _thump thump thump_ was already giving you a headache. Still, you swallowed down your discomfort for the sake of your best friend. Rachel was already there at the entrance waiting for you, a grin adorning her face as she saw you get out of the car. She had been your best friend since _forever_ , and had always been there for you. This was least you could do. You could pretend you were enjoying herself, for her sake.

Rachel had wrapped you up in a hug before you were even aware of it, gleefully saying your name as she pulled away. “I missed you _so_ much! We have so much to catch up on.”

“You say that as if we haven’t been texting 24/7 since you left, dumbass.” You said with a laugh. “Besides, you think we’ll be able to talk to each other in there? It’s so fucking loud!” 

She rolled her eyes, but there was a smile on her face. “Oh, shut up, there’ll be plenty of time for that later. But first, drinks! Dancing the night away!” She grabbed your hand and started pulling you towards the front door, slightly shoving others in her path. “Step aside, besties coming through!” 

God, she embarrassed you so much. She was clearly already tipsy, but it would make for a good laugh the next morning, when she’d undoubtedly deny ever doing such embarrassing things, while also being hungover as fuck. 

The bouncer took one look at you and Rachel and nodded, opening the door for the both of you, much to the dismay of others waiting in line. Rachel stuck her tongue out childishly at one particular guy who complained very loudly, making you snort.

Everything was a blur inside the Red Circle. It was loud, it was crowded, and it was dark except for some neon lights, which made it kinda hard to see. You and Rachel had made a beeline for the bar, where getting the attention of the bartender was hard because of the incredibly loud music, and then trying to order was even worse. When you finally had your first drinks of the night, you started to relax, letting your best friend drag you once more, this time to the dance floor. It was way too crowded, way too hot, but the alcohol in your system made you simply not care. After a few songs, though, you decided to go get another drink, but Rachel wanted to dance to one more song.

To tell the truth, once one guy too many started getting too handsy with you, you remembered why you hated clubbing so much. It made you sober up, honestly. You leaned on the bar, nursing your rum and coke, trying to catch a glimpse of Rachel as the song ended. You didn’t register the man leaning next to you until he cleared his throat right next to your ear, making you jump.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He said with a chuckle. “Can I buy you a drink, beautiful?”

You studied him with a tight-lipped smile. He was blonde, with scruffy facial hair and blue eyes, but he wasn’t attractive to you at all. “No thanks.” You rejected his offer, albeit sweetly. “I already have one.” You lifted your glass.

“Of course. How stupid of me.” He responded good naturedly. “Well, I’ll buy you the next one. I’m Iosef.”

“I’m-” You suddenly squinted at him, recognizing him. “Wait, don’t I know you from somewhere?”

He seemed thoughtful, until he seemed to recognize you too. He pointed to you with a smile. “You were at that thing! That party from a few months back.”

“Yup.”

“Wow. Small world huh?” He was still smiling. You weren’t.

“Yup.”

You didn’t know what else to say. You were pretty sure one of your brothers had mentioned this guy before, complaining about him and his father being at your parents’ “business gathering” a few months back. And here he was, with the same creepy smile on his face. But you couldn’t quite remember _why_ your brother was complaining, because your dad cut him off telling him to have some respect for their business associates.

“Whoa! That was amazing!” Rachel’s voice suddenly cut through the slightly awkward tension. She stumbled a little bit as she stepped off the dance floor, landing between you and Iosef. “It’s like a maze of people in there. I couldn’t even find the bar.” She giggled.

 _Drunk Rachel to the rescue,_ you thought fondly.

“And who is this?” Iosef said, eyeing Rachel. His smarmy smile seemed to grow, and you shuddered internally.

“I’m Rachel. Her best friend.” She introduced herself good-naturedly, sticking her hand out.

Iosef laughed, shaking her hand. “Nice to meet you Rachel. I’m Iosef.”

“Nice to meet you too Joseph.” She said with a grin, making you laugh.

Thankfully, Iosef laughed too. “I have an idea ladies. Why don’t you both join me at the VIP lounge whenever you’d like? I’ll be there waiting. There’s free drinks!”

You were about to reject his offer, but Rachel jumped at the opportunity, cheerfully agreeing. _WHY, WHY WHY WHY,_ you thought with a forced smile.

Iosef smiled back. “Perfect. You two can swing by the lounge entrance whenever you want, just tell the bouncer I invited you.” He started to walk away, and winked. “It was nice meeting you ladies.”

Rachel waved goodbye with a flirty little smile, while you couldn’t look more uncomfortable.

“We’ll hang out here for a bit before we go, we don’t wanna seem _too_ desperate.” She said, as if she was hatching the world’s greatest plan.

“I’m not going.” You said, finishing off your drink.

“What?!” She sputtered. “Why the fuck not? There’s free drinks, idiot!”

“Because.”

“That’s not a good enough reason! At least keep me company.” She pleaded.

“No.” You crossed your arms. She wouldn’t stop fucking staring at you. You squirmed under her pleading gaze, finally breaking. “Alright, fine! Please stop doing that!”

Rachel whooped, grabbing you by the arm (will she ever fucking stop doing that?!) and dragging you to the hallway that lead to the VIP lounge. When the door closed, the music from the main room of the club drowned out. You could finally stop yelling and talk normally.

“You know, he was kinda cute.” Rachel whispered to you as you two climbed up the stairs. The VIP lounge was behind a golden door, and it was labeled. You guessed the other doors on this floor were offices and stuff.

You stared at her in plain disgust. “Sure. If you’re into gremlins.”

She smacked you in the arm. “Shut up. I might be a little drunk-”

“A little?” You cut her off with a laugh.

“-but I have standards. He seems alright.”

“I’m worried for you if those are your standards.” You shot back. “I’m pretty sure his dad works with mine. You know, in the _business_.”

“So?”

“ _So?_ You don’t care?”

Rachel seemed deep in thought, before replying. “Nope. C’mon, live a little!” She linked her arm with yours, walking towards the golden labeled door. The bouncer eyed her skeptically. “Joseph invited us.” She said sweetly, batting her eyelashes at him. With a huff, he opened the door, letting you two in.

The lounge was _way_ quieter than the main dance floor, the music was mellower and it was way less crowded. You’d enjoy being here, if it wasn’t for the fact that Iosef was sprawled out on one of the couches, staring at you and Rachel with that unsettling smile.

_Ugh._

Rachel immediately went to him, with you trailing slowly behind her. You really didn’t wanna be here, but if your assumptions were correct, you couldn’t just leave like that, and risk angering or offending Iosef. You just had to suck it up for a while, and _then_ you could leave.

“Waiter! Get these two beautiful ladies a drink!” He yelled out, making his buddies laugh and the waiter zoom to the bar. Rachel was already plopped next to him, giving him her signature flirty smile. Iosef said something in another language (Russian, you guessed) as he eyed Rachel, making his friends laugh again. It didn’t sound nice. You doubted he’d just said something nice. 

Rachel giggled. “I have no idea what you just said.”

Iosef just chuckled. “That’s alright, little dove. I was just admiring how beautiful you are.”

“Thank you, Joseph.” Rachel replied with a giggle. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“How about you, princess?” Iosef looked at you, still smiling. “Everything alright? You’re so serious.”

Oh god, he was talking to you now. You were sitting next to Rachel, and thankfully, the waiter arrived with your drinks. Rachel immediately began to drink hers, but you put yours on the table with no intention of drinking it.

“I’m not feeling too well.” You lied.

“Oh, that’s too bad.” Iosef pouted.

“Yup.”

“Little dove, will you switch seats with me? I wanna talk to your friend.” He turned to Rachel.

Rachel narrowed his eyes at him playfully. “You _are_ talking to her.”

“Please?”

Your eyes widened slightly as Rachel turned to look at you, and you wanted to shake your head, but then Iosef would see. Unfortunately, she didn’t seem to get the message, because she switched with him. _Traitor_.

He was suddenly pressed up against you, arm sliding around your shoulders. You could barely register Rachel talking to one of Iosef’s buddies, because the alcohol on his breath was overpowering and it made you want to gag.

“Hey.” He said with a smile.

You tried to squirm out of his grasp, but he only tightened it. “Look…” You started, shakily. “You’re very nice.” _Lie._ “And we appreciate your generosity.” _Lie._ “But I’m honestly not feeling too well...” _Lie._ “…And I’m not really interested.” _Truth!_

Iosef’s smile suddenly vanished. “Not interested in _what?_ ”

“Um.” You smiled sheepishly, grabbing his arm and ducking under it to escape his grasp. “You.”

He looked shocked, as if no one had ever told him _no_ in his entire fucking life. His buddies started to cackle, covering their mouths. You realized that it was very probable that no woman had ever rejected him in front of his friends like that, because he looked absolutely furious.

“ _Shut up!”_ He suddenly snapped, screaming at his friends, making you all jump. He honestly looked like smoke was going to start coming out of his ears.

You stood up from the couch, backing away from him. “Look, it was… _so_ nice talking to you.” _Lie, lie, lie!_ “But we gotta get going, right Rach? I’m sorry, I really am.”

Rachel narrowed her eyes at Iosef. “Yeah. I don’t want to be around the screaming man anymore.” She said testily.

As you two walked towards the door, Iosef started screaming. “Who do you bitches think you are? Do you know who _I am?_ ” And then he started sputtering in Russian, insulting you two as he stood up from the couch, his friends rounding it to join him.

 _Shit. Shit, shit, shit._

You walked out of the lounge in a hurry, accidentally bumping into the bouncer and dragging Rachel behind you, leaving the sputtering angry mess that was Iosef behind. You had to get the fuck out of there, tell your dad, and hopefully nothing bad would happen. In that moment, someone walked out of one of the many other doors in that floor, running into you. When the man turned, you immediately recognized him.

“Frankie?” You and Rachel asked at the same time.

“What the fuck are you two doing here?” Your brother yelled, grabbing your wrist. You began to explain, but he cut you off. “Never mind. We’ve got to get the fuck out of here. You two are coming home with me.”

“What the fuck, why?” Your temper flared, wrestling your wrist out of his grasp.

“I knew it, I told dad we shouldn’t make deals with the fuckin’ Russians again.” He was talking to himself, ignoring you, this time grabbing your hand and leading you and Rachel down the stairs. You and Rachel nearly stumbled down the stairs in your heels with how fast he was going.

“What’s happening?” Rachel asked, oblivious, with fear in her voice.

You were aware of the ruckus on the top floor of the club, as you heard loud shuffling and Iosef’s yelling. “Those bitches were with _him?!_ ” Other men were also yelling in Russian. 

The door was stuck, and Frankie stopped trying to get it open to turn to you with a shocked expression. “You were with _Iosef_?!" 

“What’s going on Frankie?” You half asked, half yelled, deciding to ignore his last question.

He was looking at you with fear in his hazel eyes. “Deal gone wrong. We have to get the _fuck_ out of here.” He repeated, before kicking open the door to the main floor. When the three of you were about to start navigating the crowd of people towards the exit, that’s when you heard it. 

_Bang._

Rachel screamed and so did every other person inside the club. Everyone started wildly running around, ducking bullets and trying to find the exit. Frankie cursed in Spanish and grabbed a gun from under his suit jacket, firing it behind you and Rachel, making you two duck. You were too shocked to do or _say_ anything, just held on to your brother’s hand and to Rachel’s hand with a death grip. You kept up with your brother as he ran towards the exit, the gunshots echoing loudly in your ears.

You were scared to _death._ You closed your eyes tightly, and before you knew it you were outside and Frankie was shoving you and Rachel inside an SUV parked right near the exit.

“Fuckin’ floor it!” He yelled as he climbed in next to you and slammed the door shut. You realized Antonio was at the wheel, and he fucking _stepped_ on the gas, because next thing you knew you were speeding away from the club. Bullets were ricocheting off the SUV, making both Antonio and Frankie curse. Somehow, no bullets ever got inside, which made you realize the car was bulletproof. You didn’t know _that._

Once you had gotten away, Frankie finally let your hand go. Rachel was curled up next to you, speechless, though she was breathing heavily.

Frankie suddenly groaned. “Shit.”

“What?” Antonio’s eyes flickered from the road to the rearview mirror, focusing on your brother.

“I think I got fuckin’ shot.”

“Frankie!” You yelled, tears springing to your eyes, your hands frantically searching him.

He pushed your hands away with a scowl. “Would you relax? I’m fine, the suit’s bulletproof. It just hurts like a bitch. Goddamn!” He yelled, swatting his leg, making the crushed bullet fall to the carpet with a very soft clink, right near your feet. “That’s gonna leave a fuckin’ bruise.”

You sniffled, crossing your arms. _Figures,_ you thought. _Their suits are fucking bulletproof too._

“What the fuck were you two doing at the Red Circle anyway?” Frankie said. “There’s thousands of nightclubs in the city and you had to be at the one owned by the fucking Tarasovs.”

Everything finally clicked in your mind. “Shit.” You cursed.

“And what were you thinking, getting involved with Iosef Tarasov? That asshole won’t rest until he does something to either of us now. Fuck.”

“It’s my fault, Frankie. Someone told me it was a good spot and I convinced her to go with me.” Rachel said pitifully. She seemed to have sobered up a bit, but who could blame her? Being in the middle of a mafia shootout would sober _anyone_ up.

Frankie sighed at the look on your faces, running his hand down his face, a mix of frustration and guilt. “It’s fine. You girls didn’t know.” He muttered. “Dad’s gonna fuckin’ kill me, though. God, I had this feeling in my gut the whole time, and I kept ignoring it. I knew they weren’t gonna keep their part of the deal. I feel so stupid. And now that I put you in danger,” He looked at you. “He’s gonna kill me _twice._ ”

“Cisco will understand, Frankie.” Antonio tried to comfort him, but Frankie only crossed his arms.

“Yeah, right.”

“You didn’t put us in danger, Frankie. You didn’t know we were there.” You tried to reassure him. “I’ll talk to him. He’ll listen to me. He’ll understand.”

He looked at you skeptically, but nodded. “Thanks.” He said softly.

You rested your head on your brother’s shoulder, while Rachel rested her own head on your shoulder. You just wanted to be home, safe and sound. Your hands were still shaking, and you couldn’t help the horrible feeling in your stomach.

You honestly weren’t looking forward to that talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i SWEAR john will show up next chapter KSDJSKFJ !!! thanks for reading :)


	3. three.

The ride back to your family’s home was silent. Neither one of you talked, which was good, because you weren’t even sure if you _could_ talk. The images and sounds from the club kept flashing through your head, chilling you down to the bones. You could’ve died that night. Rachel and Frankie could’ve died. At the very least, one of you could’ve gotten seriously hurt. Frankie was lucky enough to be wearing that bulletproof suit. (And you were _still_ reeling from that. Who the fuck owns a bulletproof suit? Who even makes them? Do your other brothers have one too? Does your father?)

At the thought of your father, your hands started shaking again. Would he be angry with you? With Frankie? You wanted to say no, because he very rarely lost his temper with his children. But then again, you hadn’t ever been involved in the business, so for all you knew he could have a completely different personality when it came to that. Maybe that’s why your brother was so scared of his failure.

Antonio suddenly opened the door, making you lift your head from Frankie’s shoulder. You were so deep in your thoughts, you hadn’t even realized you had arrived. Frankie slid out of the car, offering you his hand to help you out, and doing the same with Rachel.

News travelled fast, apparently, because the minute you all stepped into the house your mother was there, almost crying and fluttering over the three of you. She was a mess, to put it bluntly, looking over the three of you and grabbing your faces and hugging you while sobbing out endearments in Spanish.

“Mami, we’re fine.” Frankie reassured her, grabbing her hands and gently pulling them away from his face.

“Oh,” She started, sniffling. “I was scared to _death_. I was _so_ worried.” She put her hands to her chest, and she took a shaky breath. “I’m so glad you’re all alright.”

It killed you to see your mother like this.

You suddenly noticed your house was full with your father’s business associates, AKA his goons. You figured they were there for protection, in case the Tarasovs decided to retaliate, but it didn’t make you feel any safer. If anything, it made you feel even more scared. It was unsettling. You saw Antonio zoom up the stairs, presumably to go get your father. After a few minutes, he came back down, telling you and Frankie that he wanted to see the two of you in his office.

That walk up the stairs felt like a fucking funeral procession for you and your brother.

Your father was sitting down at his desk with a cigar in his hand and a glass of whiskey in front of him. He took a puff of his cigar, then turned to you and your brother, looking at the two of you expectantly.

“I need you two to talk.” He said calmly. “I need you two to tell me what happened, exactly. Down to the last detail.”

You and Frankie stared at each other, daring each other to go first.

You sighed irritably. “Fine, I’ll go first.” You said. You were tired, you just wanted to go to bed and forget all of this even happened. You sat down on one of the chairs in front of his desk.

“I’m not mad at either of you.” He said sincerely, trying to put you at ease. “But I _need_ to know exactly what happened, so I can take the right course of action.”

“Antonio already told you what happened.” You murmured, looking down at your hands.

“Antonio wasn’t there.” He shot back calmly. “You were.”

You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. Your hands were shaking again, and you tried to still them as you began to explain, trying your best to not leave anything out. It hadn’t happened that long ago, but it felt like a lifetime, and it had honestly shaken you up so much that you were already trying to forget it.

When you were finished, your father was looking at you thoughtfully.

“You’re not going to like what I’m about to say.” He said after a long pause.

You were wondering what he meant, until it clicked in your mind.

“No.” You said immediately, and stood up. “No.”

“Lo siento, hija. It’s the only way I can make sure you’re safe. I’m not going to take any chances with the Tarasovs. I know what they’re capable of and-”

“I don’t want a bodyguard.” You cut him off, and his expression suddenly turned serious.

“This isn’t negotiable. I’m going to keep you safe, no matter what, whatever the cost. And if it makes you angry at me, then fine.”

You crossed your arms, sniffing. You felt so fucking guilty at that moment. He just wanted to keep you safe. “I’m sorry. This is all my fault.”

“No, tesoro. None of this is your fault, okay? You didn’t know.”

“Maybe I could’ve known, if someone didn’t keep stuff from me.”

Your father’s lips quirked. “Yes, maybe.”

You smiled back.

“You’re still getting a bodyguard.”

“ _Ughhh._ Fine.”

“You should go get some sleep, mi niña. Me and Frankie need to talk about the deal gone wrong.”

There wasn’t any anger in his voice, but you sensed his urgency, and the way Frankie dragged himself into a seat, you’d think he was about to get the chew-out of a lifetime.

You nodded, bidding goodnight to both of them and stepping out of the office, closing the door behind you. You knew Frankie was gonna be just fine, your father wasn’t mad at all, but he’d always been a bit of a perfectionist, because he’d always been in your oldest brother Tito’s shadow. Frankie was the only one that was mad at this whole thing. But that was a whole other issue.

You decided to go to your mother, and found her downstairs sitting on one of the couches in the living room.

“Where’s Rach?” You managed to ask in a tiny voice.

Your mother smiled, albeit a bit sadly. “I put her in your room. She was about to pass out.”

You snorted despite yourself, sitting down next to her and wrapping your arms around her in a sweet hug. She stroked your hair gently, and you closed your eyes.

“It’s bad enough that I have to worry about your brothers every day. Now I have to worry about you too.” Your mom whispered, making you pull away from her slightly to look at her.

“You won’t have to.” You said, a bit testily. “I’m getting the mandatory babysitter now. I’ll be fine.” There was disdain in your voice, and that made your mother laugh.

“That’s true. But that doesn’t mean I won’t worry. I’ll just worry a little bit less.” She tapped your nose and stood up from the couch. “I think I’m going to bed. You should try and get some rest, mi amor. Goodnight.”

“Okay. I’ll try. Buenas noches.” You smiled at her, and as she went up the stairs, a part of you decided that you’d gladly take a thousand bodyguards over seeing your mom like this.

After a few minutes you decided to head up to your room, and sure enough, Rachel was passed out on your bed. You chuckled under your breath, walking to your dresser to change into pajamas. Once you were changed, you rolled Rachel onto the other side of the bed so you could have some space to sleep in. She was so out of it that she didn’t even twitch or make a sound. You settled into bed and turned off the lamp on your nightstand, preparing to go to sleep.

But you couldn’t. You couldn’t stop thinking about the shootout, about _Iosef,_ his creepy smile forever burned into your mind. You spent hours just tossing and turning, and before you knew it, daylight was starting to softly stream through your bedroom’s curtains.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You said with a groan. You hadn’t slept a wink all night. Sure, you all had gotten home very late, and had gotten into bed even later, but you could’ve at least gotten a couple of hours of shut-eye before daylight. You got out of bed grumpily, grabbing your phone and noticing that it was already 6:30 in the morning. _Gross,_ you thought. You had never been up at this hour willingly.

Sulkily, you slid your feet into some slippers and sneaked out of your room, trying your best not to wake Rachel. You were somewhat jealous of her alcohol induced sleep, even if she was going to feel like _shit_ the moment she woke. It was still mostly dark in the hallway, making you notice that the lights were on in your father’s office. Your curiosity was peaked, and you tip-toed towards the door, noticing it was slightly ajar. You peeked inside the room, seeing your dad in his robe and pajamas sitting at his desk. He was wearing his reading glasses, flipping through a leather bound journal. He then reached for the phone and started dialing a number, putting the phone to his ear as opened the drawer where he’d left the stack of coins yesterday. As he was waiting for _whoever_ to answer, he counted the coins. _Boring,_ you thought, and began to back away from the door, but just then he spoke up, pulling you back in.

“Ah. Mr. Wick. I had a feeling you’d be up at this hour.” Your dad sounded pleasantly surprised, and after a pause, after this Mr. Wick replied, he spoke again. “I assume you already heard what happened at the Red Circle, considering your… _association_ with Viggo Tarasov.” Another pause. “Yes, my children are fine. That is actually why I was calling you. I have a proposition for you.” Another pause. “I want you to look after my daughter. Tarasov’s boy might have her in the crosshairs, and I’d like her to be protected.” Another pause. “Yes, exactly. I can pay you. A lot. A lot more than whatever scraps the Tarasovs are giving you, whether it be in dollars or coins.” Another pause. “We can discuss that in person, if you’d like. A formal meeting of sorts, at my home. When are you available?”

You backed away from the door at that, speedily slithering back into your room before your father noticed you were there eavesdropping. You were shocked, you hadn’t expected the whole bodyguard thing to happen so quickly. You were expecting at least a couple more days of freedom.

You fell into your bed. “No. No, no, no. _No._ ”

Rachel suddenly lifted her head up from the pillow. “No what?” She squinted at you.

“My days of freedom are _over_.” You almost whined.

She suddenly groaned, putting her hand on her forehead. “Ow, ow. Can we talk after I get some aspirin? Get me some aspirin? Please?” She fell back into the pillow. “ _Please?_ ”

“Get it yourself. I want to die.” You mumbled into your pillow.

“Oh, _you_ want to die? I feel like a thousand trucks ran over my damn head!”

“And whose fault is that? It’s not my fault you drank so much last night.” You glared at her, but softened up when she suddenly went quiet, her expression changing immediately at the mention of the night before.

“I had forgotten all about last night.” She said softly, then laughed nervously. “It was crazy, right?”

“Right, crazy. That’s one word for it.” You murmured, sitting up. “I’ll go get you the damn aspirin.” You got up, walking towards the en suite. You reached the door, then turned back to look at her. “You okay?”

Rachel smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

You smiled back, but the smile didn’t reach your eyes either.

You woke up hours later, confused, then remembered that after giving Rachel some aspirin, you had fallen back into bed and passed out immediately, the exhaustion taking over. There was a little note on your nightstand from Rachel, saying that she’d had to leave because her roommate had gotten too worried when she hadn’t come back last night and had blown up her phone, and that you needed to call her when you could.

You got up, yawning, unlocking your phone and seeing that it was 3 in the afternoon. No one had bothered you, which was strange, because usually if you slept in, one of your brothers would barge into your room, start hitting you with a pillow telling you to “wake your lazy ass up”. You knew your mother must’ve told them not to bother you because of last night.

_Fuck last night,_ you thought, heading towards your bathroom to try and look presentable for what was left of the day. You knew you looked like absolute shit, so you weren’t surprised at all when you looked in the mirror, just a little bit horrified.

You emerged after a shower feeling slightly better, and headed downstairs towards the kitchen. You were _starving_. You walked by the dining room, doing a double take when you realized there were people actually in it. Your family barely used the dining room, except when it came to business meetings-

_Oh._

Two of your brothers were there, along with your father. Frankie was looking moody as fuck, leaning against the wall. He didn’t look too happy. Manny was the first to acknowledge you, though, standing up from his seat and smiling at you. He was next to you in an instant, giving you a warm hug.

“You okay?” He whispered, making you smile.

“Yeah. I’m okay.” Manny might’ve been the most annoying of your brothers, but he was always the sweetest.

Your father turned towards you, lighting up. “There she is! She’s finally awake. ¿How are you feeling, mi niña?”

“Fine.” You replied, but your attention was on the stranger at the other side of the table.

He wasn’t sitting down, unlike your father. He was tall, and he was wearing a nicely tailored all-black suit, long black hair slicked back and beard nicely trimmed. He eyed you quizzically with deep brown eyes, and you didn’t know why, but you couldn’t stop staring at him. You were certainly _not_ thinking about the fact that he was handsome, not at all. Despite that, you had the worst feeling at that moment, and it was only confirmed by your father’s next words.

“Anyway, I believe we have reached an agreement, Mr. Wick?”

“Yes.” His voice was deep, but he didn’t say anything else. A damn shame.

“Always a man of few words.” You father chuckled. “Shake on it?”

Mr. Wick nodded, walking over to your father and shaking his hand.

_Mr. Wick._ He was the guy your father was talking to this morning. _Oh god no, please no._

Your father said your name, pulling you away from your thoughts. “I’d like you to meet Mr. Wick. He’ll be… looking after you.”

Manny snorted next to you, but he covered it up with a cough, earning him a sharp look from your father. “Sorry.” He said, but the asshole was smiling.

Mr. Wick extended his hand to you, and it seemed like his piercing brown eyes were staring into your very soul. “It’s nice to meet you, Miss Rivas.” He wasn’t smiling, but there was some warm politeness in his gaze.

You gave him a tight-lipped smile, placing your hand in his. Your hand was so small compared to his, which was large and warm and a little rough against your own. You suddenly didn’t care about how cute he was, because this man was going to be your _bodyguard_ , the one thing you’d begged your father never to do. All you wanted was to be relatively normal compared to other people, and sometimes that meant pretending your father wasn’t a fucking mob boss, and that your entire family wasn’t involved in the mafia. But having a bodyguard just meant you couldn’t pretend anymore, you couldn’t try and forget whenever you went out, because _he_ would be there right behind you the entire time, looking out for you. It was literally just a paycheck and a few shiny coins for him, while it was the end of the world for you.

Okay, so maybe you were being a bit dramatic. Maybe this wouldn’t be that bad. At least Iosef couldn’t come anywhere near you ever again, if this guy was any good. You didn’t know if he _was_ any good, but he sure was good looking.

…Maybe you could tolerate him. Maybe you’d give this shot, for the sake of politeness, and for the sake of your parents. So you smiled, a little more convincingly, and shook his hand.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Mr. Wick.”


	4. four.

You couldn’t stop staring at him.

It was around dinner time now, and he was _still_ there, in your house, about to have dinner with you and your family. He was sitting there in the parlor, talking with your father. Well, it was more like, your father was talking his ear off and Wick was just nodding and agreeing when needed. A man of few words, indeed. He was mostly just sipping on his drink.

Stupid Wick, with his slicked back hair and his nice beard and warm brown eyes. Who did he think he was? You couldn’t believe this man would be getting _paid_ to follow you around (granted, it was for your protection, but still).

“Why is he still here?” You muttered to yourself.

“Because it’s his job?” Manny suddenly replied behind you, making you jump nearly a foot in the air. He laughed.

“Asshole.” You huffed, turning back in Wick’s direction. “You mean he’s already… working? He literally just got hired.”

“Well,” Manny started, leaning on the kitchen counter next to you. “I heard Mom and Dad talking, late last night after you all went to bed. Dad wanted him to start as soon as possible, in case the Tarasovs wanna retaliate soon. He’s also gonna stay here, at least for a little while, until everything calms down a bit.”

“Ugh.”

“I know. I’m kinda scared of him, you know.” He confessed, his voice dropping down to a whisper.

“What? Why?” You whispered back.

“What are we whispering about?” Your mother suddenly appeared next to the two of you, making you jump. “You know, its rude to stare. And whisper about our guest.” She had stopped whispering, but her voice had gained an edge.

“Perdón.” You and Manny said automatically.

“Manuel, come help me with this salad.”

“Yes ma’am!” He followed her to the other side of the kitchen, and once Manny was occupied with the salad, she came back to your side. Your father had excused himself for a bit, and now Wick was left alone sitting there on the couch, looking awkward as fuck, but you could see him silently assessing his surroundings.

“Go introduce yourself.” She gave you a gentle nudge.

“But-”

She gave you a look, and that was all you needed. You made a face, and dragged yourself off the counter and out of the kitchen. You slowly made your way into the parlor, cheeks burning when you realized you could _feel_ your mother staring at you from the kitchen, and the fact that _he_ hadn’t stopped looking at you since you had stepped out of said kitchen. You awkwardly sat down on the armchair next to the couch, crossing your legs. He looked just as awkward, before tearing his gaze away from you to take another sip of his bourbon. Wick’s eyes flickered to you once more while he drank, and you felt your throat go dry. Those damn eyes.

You cleared your throat. “Hi.”

He swallowed. “Hi.”

“So uh… I guess you’re my bodyguard.”

“I guess I am.”

There was a mild pause, and you cleared your throat again.

“I’m (Name).” You introduced yourself.

“I know.” Was all he said, before emptying his glass. Of course he knew. You were just introducing yourself because your mom made you.

“Well, what’s your name?” You asked.

“What?” He looked a little taken aback.

“Your name. You do have one, right? Or should I just call you “Mr. Wick”? I mean, we’re gonna be spending _a lot_ of time together. I should know your name, I think-”

“John.” He cut you off. He was smiling. The jerk was smiling at your little rant.

“Excuse me?”

“My name is John.”

“Oh.” You tentatively smiled. “That short for Jonathan?”

“Maybe.”

“There’s no need for theatrics, you know.”

John chuckled. It was a nice sound, you decided. “Yes, it’s short for Jonathan.”

“Okay, Jonathan Wick.”

“Just John is fine.”

“Okay, John.”

He chuckled again, but you honestly couldn’t tell what was going through his head. The man was as stoic as they came.

After a small yet uncomfortable silence, you were both saved from anymore small talk by your mother, who announced dinner was ready. Frankie was the only one who didn’t join you all, opting for taking his dinner up to his room. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he didn’t want to be around John. You guessed he was probably still pissed about what happened at the club.

“Just let him be, Carmen. He had a rough night.” Your father had defended him, after your mother had muttered something about him being rude.

Dinner was pretty uneventful, with your parents filling in the awkward silences with small talk. Your mom made you sit next to John, but he was pretty quiet the entire time. You had a feeling he barely talked when he was working, which was precisely what he was doing. He was on a job. The whole dinner thing was just a formality.

You ditched dinner as soon as possible, under the pretense of not being that hungry, which was a blatant lie but you just wanted to go to your room. You’d wait until everyone had gone to bed to come down to the kitchen and raid the fridge. You did just that, when the house was completely silent and dark some hours later. Your parents went to bed pretty early, and your brothers would disappear into their rooms for the rest of the night. You had no idea where John was staying, but you honestly couldn’t care less. Or at least, that's what you kept telling yourself.

You slid on a robe over your shirt and pajama shorts and tiptoed down to the kitchen, quickly finding some leftovers and heating them up as quietly as possible. You ate in the silent kitchen, and you were putting your dirty dishes in the dishwasher when Manny came into the kitchen.

“Did you leave any food for me?” He said, opening the fridge.

“Of course I did.”

There was a moment of silence as he rummaged through the fridge for a snack.

“Why did you say you were scared of him?” You asked him.

“Huh?” He said, now looking through the freezer.

“You said you were scared of John. Before Mom interrupted us." 

He gave you a teasing smile as he pulled out a pint of ice cream. “Wow. You already on a first name basis with him? Did I miss something?”

“That’s his name! Shut up, answer the question.” You sputtered.

Manny laughed, sticking a spoon in his ice cream. “Because he’s _John Wick_. Of course I’m scared of him.”

You looked at him as if he had grown a second head. “Was that supposed to be an answer?”

“Oh, right. I forgot you don’t know shit.” At your expression, he grinned. “Look, he’s just… one of the best in the business, alright?”

“Really?” 

“Really. They call him _the Boogeyman_ and everything. I knew Dad wouldn’t cheap out on a bodyguard, but damn. I was nervous as hell when I met him earlier. The stories the guys tell about that man… they give me the creeps.”

“What stories?” You were suddenly _very_ intrigued.

Manny suddenly turned serious. “Would you believe me if I told you that John Wick once killed three men in a bar with just a pencil?”

“Bullshit.” You said

“I’m serious! A _fucking_ pencil.” 

“I don’t believe you Manny. You’re always trying to pull my leg.”

“Look, that’s what the guys told me. I believe them. They’ve been in the business long enough.”

You were silent for a minute in thought, watching your brother eat his ice cream. “With just a pencil though?”

“I’m telling you!”

“Who the fuck can do that?” You were still incredulous.

“John Wick apparently.”

As if he had been fucking _summoned_ , John appeared through the doorway to the kitchen. He looked a lot different, long hair no longer slicked back but instead fluffy and soft-looking. He was just in a white t-shirt and grey sweatpants, a huge contrast to the sharp dark suit he was wearing earlier. He was just walking by, apparently, because he gave you both a look, nodded in greeting, then just continued walking. 

Manny had stopped his spoonful of ice cream in mid-air. “I think I summoned him.” He muttered, he said, apparently sharing your thoughts.

“Well, he scared the crap out of me!” You half whispered. “What is he even doing?”

“I don’t know. Making his rounds? Checking the perimeter? All that boring bodyguard shit.” Manny made a face. “Maybe he can’t sleep. Maybe he _doesn’t_ sleep. Maybe he’s not even human.”

“Maybe he’s a vampire.” You suggested, half joking.

“Okay, that’s enough. I don’t think I’ll sleep tonight.” He said with a laugh, hitting you in the shoulder softly. “I’m going to my room.”

“Yeah, me too.” You smiled. “Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight.” He gave you a lazy wave as he walked out of the kitchen, but poked his head back in a few seconds later. “Don’t let the Boogeyman bite.”

“Shut up! Get out of here.” You waved him away, and with a grin he finally left.

You grabbed a water bottle from the fridge, put away the ice cream Manny had so carelessly left on the counter, and finally left the kitchen. As you slowly went to your room, you looked around, hoping to catch a glance of John. But he was nowhere to be found. You guessed he was probably double-checking the entrances and whatnot, boring bodyguard shit, as Manny had put it. 

Once you were back in your room, you didn’t know why you were so disappointed that you hadn’t run into him.


	5. five.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (im uploading this chapter again bc tbh? i kinda rushed it, and reading it afterwards i wasnt happy with it. so i added and changed some stuff around and its much better. ive gotta remind myself not to rush chapters out just bc i havent updated in a while. also, its my birthday today! hooray!)
> 
> sorry for the wait! classes just started for me and its Very Hectic already. as always, thanks for reading and comments are very much appreciated :)

The house was silent when you woke up the next morning. With a big yawn, you slipped out of bed, rubbing your eyes. You hadn’t slept that well, the events from the Red Circle still fresh in your mind. You’d tossed and turned for hours before finally falling asleep. You definitely needed copious amounts of coffee to get you through the day. Shrugging a robe over your pajamas, you made your way downstairs to the kitchen in search of some coffee.

“Good morning, sleepy-head.” Manny’s voice was just too annoying in the morning.

“Coffee first, talk later.” You mumbled, fishing around the cabinet for the biggest mug available. 

“Good morning.” 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Manny jump, startled. When you turned, John was walking into the kitchen with a coffee mug in his hand. He was obviously still here, you had somehow forgotten. He was wearing a simple white shirt and jeans, and somehow managed to look amazing in just that. You shook your head at that, pouring coffee in your own mug.

“Mornin’.” You said half-heartedly, while Manny just nodded at him and hurried out of the kitchen with his breakfast. 

“Just here for a refill.” John said, suddenly next to you. You didn’t know if you were still half-asleep or if he was just that fast and silent. 

“Go ahead.” 

He reached for the coffee pot and filled his mug to the brim and, much to your disgust and dismay, proceeded to drink his coffee black. Not even a grain of sugar.

“Gross.” You hadn’t meant to say it, but you managed to hide your complete disdain with a smile. You prepared your coffee the way you liked it, missing the way he watched you.

John just chuckled, leaning against the counter. “Why did your brother run out of the kitchen?”

“He’s a chicken. He’s kinda scared of you.” 

“Wonder why.” He looked at you pointedly. “Are you scared of me?”

“No.” 

“Good. You shouldn’t.” 

“Right. ‘Cause glorified babysitters are nothing to be scared of, you know?”

He smiled at that. “Speaking of which, are you planning on going out today?” 

“Maybe I am.”

“Because you know I have to go with you.” 

You scrunched up your face, sipping on your coffee. “How fun.” 

For a small moment, you considered just sneaking out and going out without him, as if you were a teenager sneaking out in the middle of the night. It was a stupid thought, but you entertained it for future use anyway.

After a quick breakfast and getting dressed, you met John at the front door. He was shrugging on a brown leather jacket, which made him look even better, if that was even possible. You didn’t know where all of these thoughts of him looking good were even coming from, and you didn’t like it. You didn’t even dare entertain them for more than a second.

You grabbed your car keys from the key holder, only to have them snatched away by John. You opened your mouth to protest, but he leveled you with a look that clearly mean there was no changing his mind, no matter how much you argued. So you huffed and got in the car.

He drove you around the city for the day, and it was actually not as bad as you’d thought. It was like having a personal chauffeur. Sometimes you’d even forget he was there with you, until you’d turn around to look at another rack of clothes and see him there, scanning the perimeter at all times. You even met up with Rachel at a diner for lunch, and he sat a table away, quietly sipping on coffee and keeping an eye on everything. You had to shut Rachel up at one point, because she had definitely noticed John’s attractiveness, and she was just aiming to embarrass you.

You two were about to head back to the house when it happened. John tensed up, suddenly, and you immediately knew something was wrong. You followed his gaze, and sure enough, suspicious cars were around, as well as suspicious looking Russian men. You thought you might’ve recognized one of them as one of Iosef’s little buddies.

John didn’t even have to tell you to get in the car. He peeled away from the sidewalk, and the cars immediately followed. You were afraid they’d start to shoot. 

“What if they shoot?” You couldn’t help but ask.

“You stay low.” Was his simple, honest answer, too concentrated on the road and on the job to come up with something to make you feel better.

And suddenly the rear windshield of your car broke as bullets struck it. You felt John’s hand, big and warm on your shoulder, as he shoved you down, shielding you from the bullets. You just had to open your big mouth, didn’t you? 

“Stay there. Call your father.” John’s voice had turned gruff. It was all business. “I’m going to try and lose them.” 

You did exactly as you were told. Shaking, you reached for your phone, and quickly explained to your father what was going on, all the while hanging on to the seat for dear life as John turned and swerved through streets and traffic, trying to shake off the thugs. Bullets whizzed by, some hitting your poor, poor car. Better the car than me, you thought. 

John definitely knew what he was doing, because suddenly they were no longer behind the two of you. The gunshots faded, and so did the tire screeches of the other cars. Your father was almost in hysterics on the phone, telling you to return home immediately. 

Everything was a blur when you arrived at the house. Your father’s employees were bustling about. You were smothered with hugs from your parents, but your father quickly went to have a few words with John, the tone of their conversation hushed and urgent.

“Mi niña.” Your father turned towards you after their conversation was over, a somber look on his face.

You were told that it wasn’t safe for you to stay there. That they’d had a couple of suspicious sightings and a couple of close calls during the day while you were gone. That you had to stay someplace else.

That John had suggested taking you out of the city for the time being.

“You’ll be staying with him for a couple of days, while we deal with all this.” Your father said.

“What?” 

“It’ll only be a little while.” Your mother said, but she was tearful. “We just want you to be safe.”

“And it’s not safe here anymore, mi amor.” Your father said. “They could be planning to attack for all we know.” 

That’s all you needed to hear. The last thing you wanted was for your family to be in danger.

You ran upstairs to your room, wanting to hurry. Quickly putting a bag together, you packed clothes enough to last you for a few days, along with other essentials. When you turned to grab a pair of shoes, you noticed your father standing in the doorway to your room. 

“Can I come in?” 

“Sure. What’s up?” You shoved the shoes into your duffel bag and zipped it. You were trying to sound as casual as possible. 

He strolled into your room with his hands in his pockets. “Viggo Tarasov called earlier. Just after one of my men saw a suspicious looking car driving around the block.” 

“Shit, what’d he say?” 

He scoffed. “Something about handling this whole thing like civilized people.” 

“Like Iosef is so civilized.” 

“He also told me that this whole thing would end if you’d just apologize to Iosef. I told him to go fuck himself and hung up. Guess that’s why he’s so angry.” He huffed out a laugh. “Pendejo.” 

You laughed, despite yourself. “Good. I’d never apologize to him anyway.” 

You came downstairs with your father. John was already by the front door, car keys in hands, wearing that nice leather jacket of his. You put down your bag momentarily, after sneaking a few glances at him, to say goodbye to your mom. She was emotional, but after a hug and a few more reassurances, she was calm enough to let you go. 

“Be safe.” Your father said, before wrapping you up in a tight hug. “We love you.” 

“We should get going.” John said awkwardly, after clearing his throat. “Before it starts getting dark.” 

“Of course.” Your father let you go. You couldn’t help but wonder if his voice was really choked up or if you’d imagined it. 

When you went to pick up your bag, you realized John had already picked it up, and he was carrying it to his car for you. You hadn’t actually seen his car yet, as he’d parked it behind the house the day he arrived. You weren’t a car nut, but all of your brothers absolutely were, so you definitely knew it was a very nice vintage Mustang, but you didn’t know the specifics. You suddenly wished Manny were there, just to watch him freak out over the car.

You got in, after another glance towards your parents, who were standing at the front door. They looked worried, scared. For you. They mirrored your feelings exactly. You were scared. You’d never had anyone actively seeking to hurt you or your family, because of something you did. All you had done was reject a spoiled mafia brat who had never been told no in his entire life. Frowning, you couldn’t help but feel guilty. Not because of what you had done, but for the pain it was causing for your family. Your parents probably had to drive upstate to hide in the other house for a while, just in case the Tarasov’s wanted to pay a visit to your family’s home. 

“Maybe I should’ve been nicer.” You murmured, after a few minutes of being stuck in traffic trying to get out of the city.

“What?” John turned to look at you, and you couldn’t place the look on his face.

“To Iosef.” You clarified. “Don’t get me wrong, I wanted to punch him in the face. But I still made him angry. And I don’t want my parents or my brothers to get hurt because of me.” And you.

John chuckled. “Maybe you should’ve.” He said. “Punched him in the face.” He clarified.

“Maybe.”

“But don’t feel guilty about this whole thing.” He was staring at you, brown eyes soft and sincere. “It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault.” 

You didn’t know how to respond, and he didn’t give you the chance, because he turned his attention back to the road. He was a man of few words, but he sure knew how to make use of them. You weren’t sure you’d be able to respond either way, because his stare had left you speechless.

Who knew he had such pretty eyes?

You watched as the tall buildings of the city transformed into houses and suburbs. You had been driving for little over an hour, a comfortable silence between the two of you. At least John had good taste in music. 

He drove into a neighborhood at last, slowly driving through the quiet streets. You stared at the houses silently, deep in thought. You had lived your entire life in the city, had grown up there, born and raised; it was all you knew. What would’ve it been like to grow up in a suburb, with a big backyard and a white picket fence and safe streets to play in? 

John suddenly pulled into a driveway, switching the car off and leaving you to admire the house with wide eyes. It was beautiful; lots of windows, big yards, two stories and a very modern yet cozy look. He got out, walking towards the front door while digging in his pockets for his keys. You followed him, shouldering your bag. As soon as he opened the door, you heard clattering as a dog came running out of the house, furiously wagging its tail and nosing and pawing at John’s legs. 

With a smile, he scratched the dog behind the ears, making it whine happily. “Hey, boy.” He said happily. “Did you miss me?”

The dog was the cutest pitbull you had ever seen. With a smile, you offered your hand to the dog, and he sniffed it, still wagging his tail. He gave it a lick, making you giggle. “He’s so cute.” You told John with a smile, petting the pitbull. “What’s his name?”

“Uh.” John actually looked sheepish as he stepped into the house, with the dog right behind him. “I just call him Dog. He doesn’t actually have a name.” 

You followed them inside, closing the door behind you. “You should name him.”

“I know. I just haven’t come up with a good name, I guess.” He walked into the kitchen, with both you and the dog on his heels. 

The house was even more beautiful inside, if that was even possible. It was very cozy. You couldn’t help but be in awe.

John was pouring food and water into the dog’s bowls, as the pitbull sat next to him and waited patiently, tail still wagging.

“Well, he still needs a name.” You said, watching as the dog ate. “Isn’t that right, buddy?” 

The dog lifted his head up from the bowl at that, looking at you and sticking his tongue out, almost looking like he was smiling.

“He seemed to like that. Buddy.” John said, and the dog wagged his tail. “Maybe I’ll think about it. C’mon, I’ll show you your room.” 

You followed him out of the kitchen and across the living room, and you slowed your pace when you walked in front of a wall of shelves, a particular picture catching your eye. It was a picture of John, looking the happiest you’d ever seen him, with a beautiful woman next to him, looking just as happy. You noticed he had stopped, and he was looking at you. You suddenly felt self-conscious. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

The question left your mouth before you could even stop it. “Who is she?”

John stepped closer, looking at the picture inside the frame. He let out a small sigh. “My wife. Helen.” 

You didn’t know why the answer floored you so much. All you could manage was a weak “oh.” You should’ve guessed a guy like him already had someone. And why did that bother you so much?

“She, uh. Passed away, some years ago.” 

Oh.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean…” 

“It’s okay. I’m okay.” He offered you a smile. His voice was sad, nostalgic; yet his smile was genuine. “Still wanna see where you’re staying?”

“God, yeah. I’m so sorry.” You apologized again, following him into the guest room. You dropped your bag onto the bed, feeling awkward as all hell. “I’m sorry.” You apologized yet again.

“It’s okay.” He repeated with a smile. “I’ll let you get settled in. Just tell me when you’re ready for dinner, and I’ll order something. Okay?”

“Okay.” You felt awful.

He closed the door, and you laid down on the bed, asking yourself why you were so damn stupid.


End file.
